


Shards

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm can almost ... ALMOST ... reach that shard there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shards

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you love it when you're trying to scramble up a hill and you pan up and all your companions are standing on top of that hill looking down at you because the computer knew there was a path there and you didn't?

“Shards” had become a swear word for Malcolm. The damned things were always in the most impossible places, like on top of a column of rock in the middle of a dragon-infested valley or on the corner of the roof of the burning shell of a house in the middle of nowhere. 

This one in particular was sitting on a rock outcropping about six feet above where he could reach from standing on Bull’s shoulders. Bull had boosted him up four times now, each time picking a different spot that looked remotely scalable, and each time he’d ended up flat on his ass at the base of the rock, scraping some piece of exposed skin on his way down. 

“Okay, Bull. Fifth time’s the charm.” 

“You sure, Boss?” 

“Of course I’m not fucking sure. But I haven’t bruised every single part of my body yet, have I?”

Bull shook his head, chuckling. "I thought that was my job," he quipped as he hoisted Malcolm up again. This time he managed to find a couple of good toeholds and levered himself up, getting the closest yet, but he still couldn’t quite reach it. He stretched just a little bit more, his fingers almost brushing the shard, and then he slipped. Again. At least he managed to catch himself before sliding all way back down the rock pile, taking a bit of skin off his chin in the process. 

It was too much, though. “Sod it all. Piss on it. Piss on a stick. Shave me bald and punch me in the teeth. I’m through with this. Damned temple. Bloody bedamned doors.” 

His swearing was interrupted when Cole’s voice sounded from above. “Here.” He looked up and Cole was standing on top of the rock, shard in hand, holding it out to him. 

Malcolm took a deep breath, and then another, and then two more, before he spoke. “Damnit, Cole, I really hate you right now for that spirit thing.”

“He sweats and he curses and he fights his way always the hard way always reaching he will reach it and he forgets to look and he misses the path again,” and Cole pointed behind him.

Malcolm followed his finger, and sure enough, there was a narrow trail that made its way down through the rocks behind the outcropping.

“Of all the bastard … Shards. Motherfucking shards.” Malcolm let himself slide back down the rocks again. “Just bring the cursed thing down here, will you?”

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as [a little drabble on my tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/post/107637550448/but-imagine-the-inquisitor-climbing-and-scrambling#notes), and so now it's a slightly longer drabble here. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> (And yes, I have said all of these things and many more while shard hunting. Especially with that one in the dragon's valley in the Hinterlands.)
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
